


Year of Hell

by Bigredtbc



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sliders
Genre: Alternate Dimension, Death, Gen, Gore, Hogwarts, Infection, Zombie Apocolipse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:03:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bigredtbc/pseuds/Bigredtbc
Summary: A biological weapon has infected the population of Britain, both magical and muggle. The dead are walking. The Infected are everywhere.Xander was just trying to help the dying man but his luck strikes again. A dying mans gift sends him hurtling out of Sunnydale California and drops him in to the Zombie infested halls of an Alternate Hogwarts.They have a year and a day to survive the hordes of infected corpses roaming the country.You can thank Jaycee over on TTH for this. Originally posted on TTH many moons ago, this work is currently being resurrected, complete with massive rewrites and heavy editing.





	1. In which we set the scene

1\. In which we set the scene

  
Hermione peered at her two best friends as they sat by the lake, enjoying the surprisingly warm September day. Despite the initial friction after Sirius’ death, they were all slowly getting back to being the best friends they had been. The solidarity and friendships they had created becoming more solid after their fifth year. It was nice; school, friends and in some cases family all meshing and co-existing nicely. A little too nice some times, something were still sore subjects after all but it was all good. Mostly.

-o-

Alex cast her eyes left as a shadow sat next to her on the blanket, he was a Slytherin, dark skinned, tall, broad shoulders, good body, nice features. He was hot. Blaise Zabini if she was correct. Not that Slytherins were prone to consorting with lowly Mud-Blood’s like herself.

"Can I help you?" she shifted on to her side, moving so she could see him fully.

He peered at her a moment, hesitantly as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes darting about the area and jumping from paddock to stable.

"Yes, actually." He nodded "I'm Blaise Zabini." He held his hand out.

She sat up and shook it firmly, a little perturbed. She was a Ravenclaw, not a particularly popular one, not to mention her well known proud muggle born lineage.

"Alex Rayne." She nodded, Blaise shifted uncomfortably a moment.

"Ok, I need your help." He admitted, embarrassed and Alex arched an eyebrow. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Look, I saw you in Care of Magical Creatures this week...and..." He sighed "I wanna work with them, Dragons, Unicorns, Hippogriffs." He told her quietly.  
"I talked to Hagrid and he said, if I was really serious about it, that I'd have to really get my grades up, and...He told me you had the highest in that class." Blaise admitted embarrassed. Alex peered up at him silently, waiting for him to get to the point. "Will you help me get my grades up?" He asked quietly.

"Is this for real? You're not jerking me around here?" She asked eying him, he shook his head.

Alex sighed as she looked at him, weighing up his sincerity, he had approached her after all, he had been civilised. Rolling her eyes she nodded.

"I'll help but you fuck me over, it won't be pretty!" She warned seriously and a bright grin lit up his face.

"Thanks." He grinned brighter and she just shrugged, observing him.

"What you doing now?" She asked, as she finished looking him over.

"Nothing."

"Good, grab that bag and this blanket." Alex ordered, she quickly put her work into her school bag, standing up. He quickly complied and she led him off towards the creature enclosures in the edges of the Forbidden Forrest.

  
-o-

  
A commotion and a flurry of activity up by the castle caught Hermione’s attention, students swarming towards the large open doors. She took one hand from her book to nudge Ron next to her, giving his shoulder a hard nudge. When he turned she nodded to the commotion; the crowd was getting bigger by the second and as she looked she spotted Ginny running towards them at a full sprint.

"Whats going on?" Parvati half sat up, attracting every ones attention to the growing commotion.

Hermione frowned as she got to her knees to see better, sparing a quick at her friends, as a shiver ran up her spine. It was like a sense of foreboding filled her, a spark of fear zipping up her spine. Ginny looked scared…no, she was terrified, tears splashing down her face as she ran towards them, something clenched in her hands.

"Ginny?" Ron was on his feet in a second, running towards his sister.

The only Weasley girl just grabbed her brother, not slowing down and dragging him back towards the group.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Harry frowned, looking at the younger girl with a startling intensity in his green eyes, sounding as alarmed as Hermione felt.

"We've just got word..." Ginny held out the parchment as she bent over panting.

The tears were still on her face and her voice was shaky, grief stricken. Lavender snatched the parchment out of Ginny's out stretched hands before anyone else could, her eyes rapidly scanned the writing, her skin loosing its colour as her jaw hung loose.

"What?" They all demanded.

Hermione stood, the feeling of dread was climbing up her spine, intensifying every second.

"It's an official notification from the Ministry of Magic" Lavender looked at them all, her pallor settling at a pale ashen tone, her brown eyes impossibly wide. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips nervously before she began.

 

> _**"This message has been duplicated and floo’ed through every open fire place in the United Kingdom network. This message is a valid Ministry notification. The signature is a magic binding oath of truth.** _
> 
> _It is with a heavy heart I - Amelia Voxx, Acting Minister for Magic- announce the atrocity that has devastated both Wizarding and Muggle communities of the United Kingdom._
> 
> _Yesterday morning at approximately 3:23 am, unknown assailants led a co-ordinated strike on our great country. The first strike obliterated more than ninety percent of London population and with it, both Muggle and Wizarding governing bodies. Less than ten minutes later the cities of Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow, York and Leeds were hit with what can only described as some kind of poison gas._
> 
> _We have discovered the nature of the attack to be as biological in nature. The gas released into these cities is of an inconceivably dark nature. The affects of such is an agonising death. I can hardly believe the words I am about to write myself but I have seen irrefutable, devastating proof with my very own eyes._
> 
> _Once dead the bodies of millions rose, with little to no self awareness remaining and no souls to speak of. The dead are walking. They have risen and walk, with a mindless rage they attack and feast on any living person they see. Those they feast on, those they bite, scratch or even somehow come into contact with their blood; through open wounds, eyes or mouth become one of them.  
>  It is unknown at this time what exactly these creatures are, they bare no resemblance to any known creature, nor have these symptoms been observed as a result of any known potion, spell or muggle weapon. It is also unknown if these attacks were perpetrated by wizards or muggles._
> 
> _We have determined that to kill these creatures you must destroy the brain, else they continue to attack and devour with a demonic savageness. Do not be fooled by what they once were, they are no longer people, they are mindless creatures of a cannibalistic nature._
> 
> _In their last moments, the deceased governmental officials as their last acts have quarantined the UK. No muggle transport via air or sea is available, any muggle transport attempting to leave past the quarantine boundary will be destroyed by muggle military forces and the Channel tunnel has been demolished. In the same manner Floo, Port keys, Apparition, brooms and flying animals will be unable to cross the quarantine boundary. Ancient wards long since placed have been activated and the UK is now sealed for exactly one year and a day._
> 
> _Please find a secure, defensible building to remain in. Do not attempt to leave the country for your own sakes and please, survive."_
> 
>  

The group of Gryffindors were silent as they absorbed the information, unable to believe it. If this was some kind of joke it was a bad one, a very bad one.

"It's real! Dumbledore's left the grounds to check it out but they're saying its real!" Ginny wheezed, straightening, up her tone full of conviction and fear, her hands trembling.

"If its real, why would Dumbledore leave?" Harry frowned, his hand clasped in Ron’s, ignored and overlooked by everyone.

"I don't know but the teachers have the keystone out." Ginny shook her head emphatically.

They all froze as old rusty sirens began to wail, the patchy broken sounds of the air-raid sirens left over from World War Two echoing from the top of every tower, overlapping and slightly out of sync. They all instinctively looked towards the noise and towards the castle proper. Even from here they could see the heaving as the crowd of students panicked and tried to force their way inside, the shouts and shrill screams of terror and pain underpinning the bone juddering caterwauling of the air-raid siren, creating a frightening, nightmarish cacophony that scattered flocks of birds from their nests in the Forbidden Forrest and created seething clouds of black in the otherwise bright, sunny , cloudless day.

"We should go in." Hermione whispered, feeling her knees tremble and her heart hammer in fear.

"Yeah." Parvati nodded shakily, her voice breaking.

 

A shout from the forest edge caught their attention and they all turned, hands going immediately for wands. They watched on in shock as a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw ran from the forrest edge, both where throwing spells, running frantically as if their lives depended on it.

"Oh Merlin!" Ron whispered in shock.

“Run, you bloody idiots. _Run!_ " The Ravenclaw girl screamed at them, shooting off an ignis charm behind her, not even looking to see where it hit.

The Gryffindors remained immobile with uncomprehending shock and frozen with terror as a deranged, high pitched, inhuman, howl tore through the air, preceding the flaming form of Madame Rosemerta. The flaming, now howling form didn’t pause, shaking her arms arms as flames ate at her dress, licking up the material as the cloth blackened and charred from the heat, smoke already beginning to plume above her as the skin of her face bubbled and melted like wax. The air was filled with the pungent smell of cooking meat. With a long screeching roar that grated on the nerves like millions of spiders running under the skin of the back, Rosemerta turned towards where the Gryffindors were clustered.  
Horror flooded Hermione as the tavern maid laid eyes on them, the woman’s irises had gone a cloudy white while the whites of her eyes were pink from burst blood vessels. Her cheeks were sunken, lined with harsh purple lines from swollen veins and capillaries and her mouth, her mouth was drawn in an animalistic snarl, teeth bared as blood tinged spittle ran unhindered down her chin and onto her rapidly burning dress.  
Hermione didn't think twice as someone grabbed her hand, she did the only thing she could, she ran. As fast as she could, her legs burning with the effort, her hand gripped in a painfully tight, crushing grip by Neville, the others right beside them, she ran towards the safety of the castle, hot on the heels of the pair that the… _thing_ that used to be Rosemerta had initially chased from the woods. Her heart pounded in her chest like a freight train and Hermione knew, she'd never forget Rosmerta's face, for as long as she lived that face would haunt her.

 

* * *

 

 

What was he doing here at stupid O'clock in the morning, while all the nasties were out and about? Xander really had no idea. Well to tell the truth, that was a bald faced lie. He knew exactly why he was out and about at such a late hour on the Hellmouth, he didn't want to go home.

He shouldn't be out so late, even he knew that but it was Uncle Rory's birthday. Being at home on such an occasion was quite possibly suicide. The alternative wasn't much better either really but when faced with the options of a. Definitely being hurt and possibly killed or b. Maybe being hurt and possibly killed, Xander took maybe every time. He was nothing but optimistic, he had to be.  
So here he was walking the Hellmouth's scenic cemetery route, waiting until he could be certain his dear old Dad and his oh-so-lovable uncle had passed out in a drunken stupor. His brow furrowed into a deep frown. Now he knew why he wasn't suave, popular or useful. He was almost positive he had some sort of cosmic sign on his back proclaiming to the universe he was a loser or maybe it was a “kick-me” sticker.

Xander cursed as a loose pebble made its presence known in his sneaker and with a loud string of complex curses that would make a nun blush, he hopped to the side of the path, wrestling with his shoe. Weather or not it was blind, dumb luck or weather it was his old Irish pal Murphy; he'd never know but the two foot tall demon that had been mid-air on a collision course with his back missed by a hairs breadth, flying into the middle of the road where it was subsequently hit by an oncoming ambulance with it's sirens blaring.  
With his shoe clutched tightly in one hand, Xander stared at the sticky, yellow smear on the black tarmac, hair slowly moving moving in the soft breeze as his eyes remained locked on the nasty mess on the road. The soft plink of the pebble from his shoe hitting the floor jolted him from his gobsmacked shock and his eyes slid up to the sky. A whispered thanks to whatever had put the pebble in his shoe flew from his lips as his heart gave a belated twist at the near miss.

Hastily he jammed his foot back into his sneaker and resumed his long, lonely walk at a more rapid, far less leisurely pace. More than a little paranoid now since he'd neither heard nor seen the demon before it went splat, he hurried away from the cemeteries and instead headed towards the seemingly friendlier option of the parks. Perkins park looked like any other park; with its swings, its slides and other such paraphernalia, yet as Xander closed the squeaky gate and stepped into the park proper, he could say with absolute certainty that tonight this wasn't your run of the mill park. His well honed sense of other-ness, developed from years of avoiding his father and uncle in a bad mood -and the last year with Buffy- was making the skin of his back practically jump off and run away.

The swings on their brightly coloured frames moved, swaying slightly with a short, sharp squealing sound that made his teeth ache. The air around him seemed to crackle and pop subtly, like the bubbles in a fresh soda against the side of a glass. It was eerie and creepy all at the same time but for the life in him, he couldn’t find the fight or flight instinct to run. Something was wrong here but not in the ‘running for your life’ sense.  
The stake was a comfortable weight in his back pocket and ever so carefully he eased it out, his feet slowly shuffling forwards as his eyes scanned the area. The sweat from the summer heat still in the air ran down his back and it made the spiders crawling up his spine even worse. The muscles in his back twitched as he slowly shuffled forwards, the little hairs on the nape of his neck standing one by one. The park was still only filled with the creepy squeaking of the swinging chains and the soft crunch of dry grass under his feet, he had the irrational thought that this was how all horror films started and his eyes darted around, checking above and below as well.

He was almost to the middle of the park when he became aware of it; harsh, wet breathing so close that until now, he thought it had been his. It wasn't because when he twirled around to face the coming threat, there wasn't anything behind him except for the slide. From his new vantage point, he could see not only the slide but what lay under the slide now to and that was a man.  
Xander's self preservation instincts took a definite back step as he dropped the stake, running towards the prone form, his eyes widened as he dropped to his knees, his hands hovering over the prone form hardly daring to touch, not knowing where to start. The scent of blood was so strong now, salty and metallic; he couldn't fathom how he'd missed it. Xander almost jumped from his skin when the man let out a burbling wet moan that rattled, blood bubbles frothing up from between too pale lips.

"Easy dude, your pretty done over, have you got a name?" Xander asked, cataloging the injuries he could see.

  
The most glaring injury was the man's stomach. It looked like someone had almost cleaved the man in two, the pale, crimson stained skin of his abdomen was hanging in shreds, barely holding on by the slimmest piece of fat. The gaping wound was over shadowed by the long thick rope like organ laying out and around the man, like a slippery, swollen, purple and red mottled veiny jump rope. It glistened with blood that was slowly seeping further out, coating the grass around him. If Xander stopped to dwell, he'd probably be puking at the sight.

"Qu...Quinn...M…Mal...Mallory." The man continued laying prone before him like an all you can eat demon buffet, his voice was wet and bubbling with every exhausted wheeze of air.

"Quinn? I'm Xander, look, I...I'm gonna call an ambulance, OK." Xander stammered, looking into the mans waxy face.  
His face was pale, losing all colour and texture rapidly. Quinn moved, almost drunkenly blind eyes rolling up to look at him as a blood soaked hand clenched around something batted into his weakly, trembles wracking the body from the exertion.

"Th...they’re dead....Please!" The man choked, more bloody bubbles passing his lips, popping, splashing blood over his already too pale face.  
Weakly Quinn dropped the funky shaped thing into his hands, eyes rolling for a moment as the rasping breath rattled wetly, stuttering. All Xander could do was sit there, he knew it was too late for the guy, even if an ambulance somehow miraculously got there in that exact moment.

He took Quinn's bloody hands, trying to reassure the man and fervently hoping he wasn't in any pain.

"Quinn, come on dude, you're gonna be ok." Xander looked at the guy, the device still clenched in one hand.

The words sounded false, even to his own ears. They fell limp when, with a final choking, wheezing rattle, the bloody hand in his went lax; dull eyes rolled up and the man sagged. Dead.

Xander slumped back on to the grass next to the corpse, letting go of the slippery lifeless hand. He couldn't help, but feel sorry for the guy. Having your guts ripped out wasn't a pretty way to go. His eyes were glued to the body as he sat there, his mind numb. He just sat there as blood seeped into his jeans, staring at the corpse for what felt like an age, his butt going numb from the cold, blood dampened earth underneath.

A quiet chirping captured his attention jerking him awake, he couldn't tell how long he'd been sat with the now late Quinn Mallory, couldn't bring himself to dwell even though the sweat along his spine had cooled and left him chilly. Instead he turned his attention to the chirping device in his hand.

It looked like a hi-tech remote, and pulling the flap down, he was presented with glowing buttons and a digital timer almost at zero. The device chirped again and a button began to flash. The count down had only a few seconds to go. Examining the device, he couldn't begin to fathom what it did. Unable to stop himself, he pressed the flashing button as the timer reached Zero.

He dropped the device, jerking back with a yelp as it sparked, landing to point at the floor. He didn't have time to move any further as the ground beneath him shifted, the earth lighting up, churning and swirling while the sheer brightness of it blinded him. The next thing Xander Harris knew was the sharp, stomach churning decent as he fell backwards through the churning portal that swallowed him, sending him on his way to God knows where.

 


	2. What the hell is this?

2\. What the hell is this?

  
His landing was rough, he fell from the blue portal almost ten feet onto a very hard floor, his landing forcing the air from his chest with a sharp, pained yelp. The device that had fallen with him dug into his chest; so much so he was sure the snap he'd heard was from his ribs. Carefully he rolled off the deceptively evil little remote with a wince, his face screwing up in pain as he did so. Yep, he had a few broken ribs, the thing that had caused all this wasn't any better either. It lay in a few dozen tiny pieces, the black casing cracked and several microchips snapped, frayed and severed wires hanging exposed.

His mind whirled as he tried to make sense of the last hour? It couldn't have been longer than that surely. It didn't really matter how long it had been, what did matter was where the hell he was and even more importantly...Why was the sky inside?

Slowly Xander sat up, exhaling sharply as his ribs throbbed painfully, getting his first look of the area. It looked like some sort of hall, maybe a throne room or some sort of communal dining hall. Carefully getting to his feet, with an arm holding his aching ribs, he tried to make sense of what he could see. He was stood in a dim, huge room by a long over turned table, facing the a set of open, heavy looking, old double doors and all around benches, plates, bowls, cups, cutlery and long broken tables littered the floor, not to mention rotting food. The smell of the rotting food clogged his nose, making him pull his shirt up over his mouth and his nose.

Cautiously he moved down off the raised floor, movements stiff and painful as he favoured his ribs, eyes taking in the grim scene. At the end of the hall the large doors where ajar, one hanging dangerously on its bottom hinge. The place looked like a disaster zone, the storm like sky above casting deep shadows.   
He felt the bile rise as something caught his eye, attracting his attention. The body of a girl, twelve years old at most, was splayed out half under the collapsed middle section of a table, she was the sickly yellowing, green hue of a corpse in the first real stages of decomposition, her body bloated and swollen with gasses, her tongue so swollen it no longer fit in her mouth and her eyeballs bulged within their sockets. It was presumably her arm laying on the torn yellow banner a few feet from her corpse, what flesh was left of the arm had teeth marks it, the rest of the severed limb little more than scraps of putrid flesh and yellowing ligaments tuck to the gnawed humerus. Creeping closer he noted with disgust, his stomach churning, that the teeth marks in the bone and flesh looked human.

Xander's last few years on the Hellmouth didn't and couldn't have prepared him for this. This wasn't right, it was so far from right, the wreckage around him was more akin to a war zone than anything Xander had ever seen.  
His eyes strayed to the dead girl and he finally lost all control of his stomach as her mouth stretched further open, a fat snake forcing it’s way past the swollen, discoloured tongue and slithering out with a wet plop onto her bloated chest. Putrid gasses escaped, joining the already rancid, fetid air. He turned as his lunch forced its way back up, unable to completely take his eyes of the girl and the snake as he vomited. The smell attacked him again and he turned, bolting for the large doors. He didn't dare dwell on the sickly crunching under foot or the pain in his chest.

His feet slid on something squishy as he finally left the graveyard of hall, finding himself in a dark stone entrance hall. Here at least, torches lit the corridors that sprouted off to either side. He stopped before he collided with the barricaded exit, sneakers slipping on slick stone and his ribs screaming in protest. The biggest beams of metal he'd ever seen sat across the large doors which presumable led outside, thicker than his thighs the metal was sunken into the stone, grate big metal straps fastened them to the doors, preventing them from opening. That meant one of two things; the first, that someone had put the five beams in place to trap what must be students inside what Xander could only assume was some kind of castle or the second, that they had been paced there to keep sometime out -only, what could be worse that whatever had caused the slaughter and destruction in the hall? Xander was pretty damn sure he didn’t want to find out.

Xander knew there was no way he could move the beams by himself, especially with he pain shooting up his side from the broken ribs. That left him with a choice; left, right or back into the hall with the dead girl and whatever else might be lurking in the shadows with bloated corpses. The corridor on his left looked darker and his spidey-sense was screaming at him to run away from that corridor. Right it was. He couldn't do anything else, so he turned right and started walking.

  
The halls were silent as he walked through them and as he walked, he was slowly beginning to loose what resolve he had. He had been counting bodies as he passed them; macabre corpses of teens his age and younger in varying stages of decomposition. Each body was a tableau portraying its own story, each violent and terrible event marked into skin a chapter in the story of someone’s death and all of them with the same sort of marks. Imprints and gouges from teeth, human teeth.

There was no mistaking the teeth marks, unless the seemingly abandoned castle had gorillas with braces? He highly doubted it. It was depressing to admit that he'd seen enough bite wounds in his sixteen years to be able to identify the closest species that did it. Demons were tricky to identify but they still fell into a specific category and sometimes being able to identify the bite marks was the only was to identify a demon.   
What sort of a person could do this, eat people and discard them like Happy Meal wrappers? He didn't want to find out. It was bad enough that vampires and other kinds of demons ate people but at least that was more of a ‘law of the jungle’ thing, people eating people was barbaric. Nothing good ever came from cannibalism.

 

  
For what felt like hours he moved through corridor after corridor, up into the bowels of the castle. His ribs ached more with every passing hour and his hope of finding someone alive was sinking every time he passed another body. He'd lost count somewhere around a hundred and forty two.

  
Xander paused, leaning against the wall, fighting down the urge to breath too deeply and rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He was caked in sweat, dust and ichor, his hair plastered to his skull with it, his clothes were crusty and stiff, feeling glued to his skin and the old broad sword he'd liberated from a fallen suit of armour weighting his arm down. He could have sworn he'd been down this corridor before. Where the hell was he? His eyes were unbelievably heavy as he rested there. His watch didn't help any; he had come to the conclusion it had stopped working on the trip through the vortex to this hell he found himself in. His eyes began to close of their own violation. They were getting heavier by the second, gritty and sore.

He couldn't seem to find the energy to keep them open anymore, he was exhausted, between the late night before all this had started and the current predicament he found himself in. He was losing the battle with his growing exhaustion, falling asleep in the middle of a hall, God knows where with possibly anything out after him, exposed in an indefensible position. He was so screwed.

He jerked awake at a noise, eyes popping open as he hefted the sword. It took a moment to identify the noise that had woken him. Running, blind and panicked running by the sound of it. Heavy foot steps baring down on his position underpinned by harsh, panted breathing. He couldn't pin point the direction though, the noises echoing and bouncing off of the stone hallways.

Cursing under his breath Xander pressed his back against the cold stone wall behind him as his eyes flicked left and right, sleep deprivation was bringing what was left of the soldiers training and memories up to the front. The footsteps were coming nearer with every passing second, accompanied by something else, something snarling and grunting, lots of them whatever they were. Getting his feet under him, he turned, bringing his sword up as two dirty teens, younger than him by a year or two, barrelled wildly around the corner; leading the way with the strange non-pointy stakes in their hands.

Apparently he was just as much of a shock to them as they where to him because they both stumbled and faltered as they saw him. Their eyes widened comically, their feet sliding on the slick floor, gripping each other for balance as the girls eyes roved him a moment fearfully, both of them gripping their sticks in with white knuckle intensity.

"Did _they_ get you?" She demanded hurriedly, darting a look behind them. The snarls were getting closer along with the clumsy thud of something giving chase.

"Who? What the _fuck_ is going on here?" Xander demanded in alarm; he did not want to end up like the corpses! No sir, not one little bit.

"Come on _they're_ coming!" The male, a pudgy boy who was rapidly loosing weight by the look of him, began moving forward at a jog and the girl nodded frantically as she followed him.

" ** _Who?_** " Xander demanded harshly, quickly loosing all patience he had left.

A tiny figure, no more than two and a half feet tall, came scrambling around the corner, blood and gore hiding it's face; it’s eyes were inhuman, blood red irises nestled in bruised whites. It let out a bone shuddering screech of fury that made Xander's blood run cold.

The two teens he'd just met bolted.

Xander didn't need a second to decide, he turned and followed them as fast as he could, clutching his aching ribs with one arm, gripping his sword in the other as they ran. He threw a glance over his shoulder, his heart beginning to race a thousand fold; where the little one had been alone seconds ago, what had to be fifteen or maybe twenty more were there, all of them racing forward like a pack of rabid animals. He shuddered and ran as fast as he could, hot on the heels of the two students, catching up to them as they threw themselves around a corner and into a stairwell.

'I hope you know where your going!' he thought frantically, as they sprinted down a staircase, around a bend and towards a portrait of a fat lady in pink.

“ _Merlin’s Knickers!_ " The girl yelled out as they rapidly approached the portrait.

Xander almost stumbled at the absurdity of the phrase but it was quickly thrown aside by relief as the portrait swung open ahead of them. Shoving everything else to the side of his head he ran quicker, his were muscles threatening to cramp as they burned and his ribs shooting sharp spikes of pain off its every breath, he was gasping as leapt into the room beyond the portrait with the other two. The portrait slammed shut behind them seemingly on its own with a resounding bang and Xander skidded to a stop, barely managing to keep upright as he gasped and wheezed, clutching at his ribs, bolts of white hot agony making his face twist and scrunch.

The other two were sprawled on the floor gasping for breath and Xander took the opportunity to gulp down more air, figuring he was safer than he had been as his legs trembled. Bracing the hand that still held the sword in a death grip against his knees, he tried to take even, measured breaths while he counted them out in his head, trying to steady his heart beat and ease some of the pain from his ribs. Slowly he looked up, trying to get his bearings, only to come face to face with almost a dozen sticks pointed at his face.

******

Harry stared at the hunched over teenager in front of them. He was flushed and panting, caked in sweat, grime and gore, his wide brown eyes were flicking over everyone in the room, jumping from person to person. Harry kept his wand trained on him, surprised beyond belief at the sight of what was clearly a Muggle; not just here inside the supposedly sealed school but here, alive before them. Questions bubbled up in his head, so many in fact he wasn’t sure where to start or what to ask first. He opened his mouth, words dying on his lips at the strangled tone and American accent.

"OK, What the _hell_ is going on here?" The American muggle demanded, still wheezing and gripping at his ribs.

Harry blinked; how could he not know what was going on? Malfoy was apparently thinking the same thing, given the blatant disbelief written on his face and the soft strangled noise he let out.

"Where the hell have you been, muggle? Were you under a rock the last week?" The Slytherin drawled out so dryly, Snape would be pleased -if Flitwick hadn't bitten him five days ago that is.

The boy’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, eyebrows arching a fraction as his gaze flickered around again before worry flooded his features.

"Please don't tell me I'm in England?" he asked pleadingly.

Harry lowered his wand a fraction, how could he not know where he was? To not only be unaware of what had happened but to not know who he was? That wasn’t right.

"Of course you’re in England you pillock, the whole country’s been sealed shut for over a week!" Ron waved his wand expressively, tone bordering on condescending.

Harry could understand his tone, purebloods thought muggles were moronic, half brained imbeciles at the best of time and this unlucky American wasn’t improving on that assumption at all, quite the opposite in fact. Harry wasn’t sure if he should envy him for having avoided the horrors that Harry himself had seen this week or if he pity him.

"It would have been on the news. Giles would have heard!" The teen denied vehemently, straightening himself up. “This can’t be happening!” He refuted, casting his eyes towards the ceiling, calling for some kind of divine intervention most likely.

“You really don’t have a clue what’s happened do you?” Blaise asked the teen, stunned beyond belief and looking at the American with an expression of bemusement. “Or even where you are?” He added as an afterthought.

“It’s not my fault, all I did was try to help a guy with his guts hanging out and then I got zapped by his blippy-blinky-doodad!” The teen threw his hands in the air, a pout on his lips as his brows furrowed.

"Wait on, everybody just calm down." Millicent Bullstrode of all people stepped between the American and everyone else in the room, tucking her wand away. Even more surprisingly she held her hand out to the muggle, an honest looking smile on her face -though it was small, hampered by the bags under her eyes and the exhaustion clearly written in lines that had aged her otherwise youthful features. "I'm Millicent, my friends call me Millie" She offered with a shaky smile and took her hand, straightening his shoulders.

"Xander Harris" He offered as he looked at them all again, eyes sweeping over them almost like he was assessing them, just like Mad-Eye did. "What’s with the sticks?" He asked lightly.

Harry shot a look at his companions, pleased to see that he wasn’t the only one who looked unsure. Did the Statute of Secrecy still exist? After all it wasn’t as if there was a government to regulate that kind of thing any more. Not to mention the fact that Xander was here inside Hogwarts after all. Further more, how did they even go about telling him. Harry knew from first hand experience that as fantastical and wonderful as he found the wizarding world, there were others – His aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley, to name a few- who found the wizarding world the complete opposite, nightmarish, terrifying and abhorrent.

Most of the Slytherins took a wary step back, putting distance between themselves and the muggle, the rest of the purebloods not far behind. It wasn’t surprising, while purebloods might think they were above muggles they were also taught that muggles were dangerous. It was also an ongoing theme taught in the classrooms, much to muggle-borns dismay, because while there were plenty of Witches and wizards that had escaped persecution and execution during the Witch Hunts, just had many had been slaughtered. That didn’t take into account the more recent tales of magical children abandoned or beaten to death by their own parents, or magicals that had been discovered and attacked by lynch mobs.   
Looking at the muggle borns in the room, Harry barley hid he wince at the growing indignant looks on the two muggle borns faces.

"We're wizards." Harry told him reluctantly, lowering his wand but not putting his wand away.

Other than a slight twitch of surprise to his eyebrows Xander actually looked otherwise nonplussed about that and it made Harry frown.

“Cool.” Xander said simply, head bobbing a little.

“Cool?” Ron drawled out slowly, sounding as sceptical as Malfoy and the other Slytherins looked.

“Yeah, cool, maybe handy too given the state of things.” Xander added dryly.

  
“Your not scared?” Neville asked, wary and nervous as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“You’re not gonna turn me into a toad or hex me with some kind of funky skin disease are you?” Xander asked in return, completely at ease with them.

“Of corse not!” Hermione protested, outraged. “Not unless you attack us that is…” She admitted sheepishly, tucking a strand of messy hair behind her ear.

“Well, so long as your not eating people, committing wholesale slaughter or are, y’ know, genuinely evil, I think we’ll get along.” Xander’s lips tugged at the corners with a sardonic smile.

“…yeah…” Hermione’s face fell, her good humour dying with the reminder of what lay beyond the common rooms portrait.

“Eh, sorry, I don’t always think before I open my mouth.” Xander rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely apologetic but Harry felt himself relax.

It seemed a consensus was reached as when Harry put his wand away, the rest followed suit, relaxing.

"You really don't know where you are, or what's happening out there do you?" Millicent asked quietly into the awkward silence that filled the space between them all.

“I can take a wild stab in the dark and say I’m somewhere in the UK but other than that I really don’t have a clue.” Xander shrugged, moving over to the nearest window to peer down at the schools grounds. "So what are we dealing with here? Vampires, Demons or Werewolves...Oh My!" Xander had adopted a falsetto tone.

The American’s ability to joke at the moment made Harry’s mind boggle and as he glanced at his friends and fellow students he could see equally ensued, confounded and befuddled expressions on their faces. Xander didn’t seem to notice for a moment, far too invested on the harrowing sight that was outside.   
Harry didn’t need to look to know exactly what Xander was seeing. Hundreds of Infected roamed the grounds, some in groups while others were alone. There seemed to no rhyme or reason to where or why they either grouped together or remained alone that they had observed so far.

“I don’t think this bloke’s all there mate.” Ron muttered, leaning closer and nudging Hermione with his elbow.

“Ron!” Hermione darted a quick look at the American, shoulders having tensed back up in worry. When Xander didn’t so much as twitch, his attention firmly on the roving hordes below, she relaxed and shot Ron and annoyed look. “Did you not see the bloody big sword he’s holding or did it conveniently escape your attention?” She huffed.

Harry couldn’t help the small twitch of his lips, Hermione berating Ron always seemed to lift his spirits. It was like a little ray of normality in the storm of terror and horror they found themselves stuck in.

“But Hermione!” Ron whined softly, pouting at their friend and looking at Harry for support. Harry just shook his head, feeling the smile on his face grow a little.

As much As they may have wanted it to, the moment couldn’t last forever. Either having looked his fill or noticing that no one had answered him, Xander’s attention left the window and its view of the grounds to regard them all.

“So what’s going on?” He asked, moving to the closest chair and sinking onto it with a wince. A wince that had them all tensing.

“Were you bit?” Lavender demanded, backing up a few more paces, putting as much distance between herself and Xander as she could while still having an unimpeded casting range.

“Bit? Nah, I fell on the doo-hicky and I think it broke a rib or two.” Xander shook his head, he free hand tugging up the rather hideous lime green Hawaiian shirt, exposing a vivid red bruise the same shade as the flowers randomly splashed against lime green.

“Oh thank Merlin.” Lavender sagged,

“So is anyone gonna tell me why it looks like a cannibal clans Thanksgiving out there? Or what those freaky little mutant gremlins on a bad acid trip are? Hell, if you wanna tell me why your all freaking out over if they’ve bit me or not while we’re at it, that would also be made of awesome.” Xander asked, frustration leaking into his tone.

"It’s the end of the world" The little girl, the first year Hufflepuff Lisa whispered heart brokenly, her voice so soft and fragile.

She sounded broken, lost and she looked devastated where she sat scrunched into an armchair crumpled in on her self. Her whisper filled the common room, cutting through the soft murmur passing between the Slytherins and plunging it into a deathly silence. Beyond the room, the cacophony of guttural wails and primal shrieks echoed, bouncing off the castles stone to fill the silence her statement caused.  
The inhuman, unnatural dissonance was making Harry’s stomach churn almost painfully, the base of his skull feeling tight with a fear he couldn’t compare. The fear he felt was almost primordial, like an instinctive fear. He wasn’t fearless, he would be suicidal without fear and contrary to popular belief; brave didn’t mean fearless. He had been prophesied to fight and maybe die at the hands of a megalomaniac, mass murdering dictator, the same on that had been hunting him since before his birth. Fear was healthy, keeping him alive but the fear he’d felt when facing Voldemort in the past was nothing compared to the terror the Infected instilled in him.   
Voldemort might kill him and if he had the option, might kill him painfully. The Infected would kill him, without compunction they would without they would kill him in such horrific and agonising ways that would likely leave his body roaming the earth as one of them.

After a moment Hermione began talking, as if to fill the silence between them and drown out the screams still filtering in outside.

"It was a nice day, not too hot but not on cold, the kind of day for a picnic, you know?” Hermione’s voice was vacant in a way Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard before, her eyes going dim. “Everyone was out at first but as nice as it was something felt wrong, then out of nowhere everyone was rushing back inside and Ginny was running to us with this note…It didn’t make sense…and it said, it said…” Hermione’s voice waved, her chin trembling with the thick emotion in her voice.

It made Harry shudder, the grief and confusion he could here in her tone, more so because she didn’t sound like herself. As she spoke the words dredged up his own recollection, the sense of foreboding that had settled cold deep in his bones, even while the warm sun had bathed his skin. He curled his arms tightly around himself, trying to ward off the goosebumps he could feel prickling with every word out of Hermione’s mouth.

“It said that cities had been hit, that people dropping dead from some kind of gas attack but then…” Hermione took a deep shaky breath, shoulders hunching in on herself and Harry could see that it was effecting everyone just as much as him.   
“The dead people were getting back up; I didn’t make any sense, I mean, how could that happen from a gas attack right? It couldn’t be real, we were all sceptical and then... and then then they came...” Her eyes were damp but there was a look in them that made Harry’s stomach hurt.

One of the few times he’d ever been allowed to watch TV with the Dursleys, it had been a documentary on World War Two and he could remember hearing the phrase ’thousand yard stare’ but not understanding what that meant. How could someone have a thousand yard stare? Now he knew and he knew because that was the look in Hermione’s eyes right now, dull with the weight of what was inside her mind yet still shimmering with tears that wouldn’t fall.   
Where he sat in the over stuffed armchair, Xander had gone pale, his lips clenched in a bloodless line and his eyes wide with shock and a healthy dose of fear. What was surprising was that he believed what Hermione was saying. There was no trace of disbelief or even scepticism and he was understanding the gravity of what Hermione was saying enough to be afraid.

"…I’ve never seen anything like that, it was…everyone was panicking, trying to get into the school and it was like pure chaos, everyone trying to get inside before they got in” Her voice was hollow now, filled with the mind numbing shock of someone still not quite understanding what the hell was going on, the thousand yard stare joined by something almost manic. She looked and sounded like she was stuck watching it happen again in her mind, like she was stuck inside a pensive watching the horror all over again.   
"One of them, Rosemerta, she bit Cho…Just grabbed ahold of her, covered in fire and you could smell her burning, like meat cooking on a barbecue, her skin sizzling and melting off her face like wax…she just bit Cho’s throat, tore it straight out and there was blood everywhere, like a fountain” Hermione was speaking faster, words strung together as if she couldn’t stop her self “...Hagrid hit her in the head and her head just went… _splat_ " Hermione clapped her hands as is to punctuate, giggling a little hysterically. "It was everywhere…blood and bits of her all over, just dripping; wet and sticky, everywhere…and Hagrid...” She took another shuddering breath, blinking rapidly as she visibly shook herself.  
“You can't get bitten or get blood in you, you see; because you turn. You turn and your not you anymore" Her eyes where locked on Xander's, the tears that had been brimming splashing over, rolling pale lines down her smudged, dust coated cheeks.


	3. Is it alive or is it dead?

Xander jerked awake when the old worn door creaked open, he still had the sword he’d found yesterday clutched too him like a teddy bear; the metal warm from where he’d kept it close while he slept as he gripped the handle and he waited, whole body tense, as the door slowly inched open. The dorm room he’d been shown too was empty, save for him, though belongings from the former occupants were littered about as if waiting for the owners to return. It had felt creepy being in here by himself last night, though it hadn’t stopped him from falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He hadn’t been able to resist the comfortable mattress or warm blankets, not when coupled with his pain and exhaustion.

Xander relaxed when a familiar face poked into the open gap of the doorway, the tension easing from him and his group relaxing on the sword. Millicent blinked at him sheepishly when she saw he was awake, opening the door fully. She had a bundle of clothing in her arms but her wand was held firmly in one hand.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, we thought you might need something to wear.” She awkwardly carried the bundle closer, setting them on the foot of the bed he’d slept on. “We’re making breakfast, we don’t have a lot of food but your welcome to join us.” She offered, watching him carefully, a curios light to her eyes.

“Breakfast would be fantastic.” Xander agreed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

As he eased himself out of bed, he was happy to note the pain in his ribs had eased to a dull ache. The accelerated healing factor left over form the hyena possession having worked its miracle while he slept. The bruising that had been a livid red -interspersed with patches of worrying purple- had faded to a sickly swirl of green and yellow.  
Reaching for the clothes Millicent had brought, he couldn’t help the small frown on his face at the beat red blush on Millicent’s cheeks. While he hadn’t worn a shirt to bed, he still had on the sleep pants Neville had given him the night before. She ducked her head, flushing brighter as she carefully turned away from him.

“Sorry, I’ve never met a muggle before.” She admitted, tucking a lock of shower damp hair behind her ears.

“Is that some kinda’ weird Brit slang for American or something?” Xander asked, going through the pile of clothes, unable to help the wince at the school uniform he’d been given.

“What? No.” Millicent turned back to him, a confused frown on her face that dissolved after a moment to be replaced by understanding. “It’s what we call non magical people.” She elaborated, flushing brighter as her eyes drifted to his bare chest. “Come down to the common room when your ready.” She stuttered before beating a hasty retreat.

Shrugging off the strangeness, Xander took the clothes with him into the bathroom, busying himself with relieving himself and using the shower.

 

He still had far too many questions left from the night before but after the harrowing tale Hermione had spun and the awkward, grief filled silence that had followed, they’d called it a night. Neville had been nice enough to sort him some pyjama pants out and show him to this empty dorm, also showing him the rather antiquated bathroom before Xander had been left to his own devices.  
He did feel clearer for the sleep though, the panic left from his arrival had eased its grip on his chest. He was still stuck here -across the world and stuck inside this magical castle- but at least he wasn’t stuck in some kind of hell dimension.

Instead of dressing in the uniform he’d been given, Xander took the time to go through the draws and trunks around the dorm room. He had to firmly brush aside the weird, creepy feeling wandering up his spine at the thought that he was wearing some dead kids clothes, it wasn’t like the dead kid would need them now after all and Xander did need them. He also made sure to pocket a few of the more useful items he found, a zippo lighter, a Swiss Army knife and what looked like a handful of cherry bombs.  
Bundling himself into a thick knitted jumper, he grabbed the heavy duty jacket that was made out of some strange scaly material. He made sure to snag the sword as he left, better safe than sorry.

 

In the common room, two of the girls were stood carefully next to the fire place stirring something in the honest to God cauldron that sat in the flames. The same group he’d been hastily introduced to before bed was there, no new faces had appeared. There were thirteen of them altogether, mostly clustered into two groups with the youngest girl and one of the red headed girls sitting separate from the two groups and they all looked at him when he stepped off the last step and into the common room proper.

“Your just in time for breakfast.” Hermione –as she had been introduced as the previous night- turned away from the cauldron.

She looked more settled than she had the night before, some of the lines on her face having been smoothed out. Sometimes a person needed to vent all their pent up emotion before they could process something life changing. It wouldn’t be the first time Xander had seen something like it since finding out about demons and he sincerely doubted it would be the last.

“We’re having porridge.” Hermione offered him a hesitant smile.

“That sounds great.” Xander lied, dredging up a somewhat passable smile for the brunette.

“Yeah right mate, it tastes like cardboard but it’s better than nothing.” Ron spoke up, eyeing Xander curiously. “So your really a muggle yeah?”

“I am.” Xander agreed, carefully sitting on one of the armchairs in the ‘neutral zone’ between larger groups.

“How is that possible? Even if you somehow managed to appear inside Hogwarts instead of bouncing off the wards, you shouldn’t be able to see the castle.” Draco asked, his tone imperious and cool at the same time and reminding Xander a little of Cordelia.

Xander couldn’t help the snort he gave at that, because truly? Xander had no clue how he’d arrived in this school. He’d been mulling it over on and off over the night when not distracted by the whole infection thing. In his experience, swirly coloured portals that sucked people into them never meant anything good and in his experience, portals meant demons, magic and ooglie-booglie world ending badness. As far as he knew –and boy were Willow and Giles ever vocal about it- science fiction science wasn’t possible. Willow had spent three days alone picking apart the whole Stargate thing when he’d made one off hand quip. A blippy doo-hickey that created a big swirly portal should not exist according to both of them, yet here Xander was. How aside, Xander’s main problem with this whole sojourn to a magical school somewhere in Scotland was where. Yes he was apparently somewhere in Scotland but to his knowledge, the U.K. Wasn’t under quarantine and certainly hadn’t been for a whole week. Even with patrolling and the weekly big-bad to take down, Giles would have heard and certainly would have mentioned it.  
There was more to portals than hell dimensions. According to every lecture and debate between Willow and Giles, alternate dimensions existed with the same frequency as realities, which is to say there was an infinite amount of them floating around out there. Some realities closer to their own than others. Maybe his reality had a Hogwarts and maybe it didn’t, maybe this reality had a Hellmouth, a Buffy, a Willow and a version of himself.  
The possibility of him being here aside for later, Xander didn’t really see the problem with him being inside and seeing the big magical castle. Yes it was cool to be in a magical castle but he kinda had bigger problems.

“Blame the blippy doo-hickey for me being inside, and yes I can see your big assed magical castle, what’s the big deal?” Xander shrugged.

“The big deal is that you shouldn’t be able to see it. There are anti-muggle wards, spells and enchantments all around the school, they’ve existed for hundreds of years; some of them are as old as the school itself, laid down by the Founders.” Hermione explained primly. Xander couldn’t help the small snort.

“Magic goes wonkey around me all the time.” Xander shrugged, unconcerned in the slightest. “I’m like anti-magic or something.” He added.

“…That’s not possible.” Parvati spoke up, jumping into the conversation, her eyes shrewd. “The only way you can bypass anti-muggle spells, especially the older Druidic ones from the Founders, is if you had your own magical core, it’s a fundamental law of magic.” She added, tone as sure as if she was saying that rain was wet.

All Xander could do was shrug, in his experience he didn’t mix well with magic. It wasn’t that he didn’t flat out trust these magical students, it was more that he trusted his own experiences, Giles and Willow more. All three agreed that Xander should not be around magic. In this particular case, he didn’t really have a choice but it still stood that magic didn’t get along with Xander and visa versa

“All I know is what I’ve seen and I have seen plenty of magic go wonkey around me.” Xander shrugged, getting more comfortable in his chair.

“How is that even possible? You’re a muggle, you shouldn’t have been exposed to any sort of magic. The Statute of Secrecy clearly prohibits muggles from recalling magic done around them, that’s what Obliviators are for, their whole job is to go around making sure muggles don’t remember any magic done around them.” Blaise squinted at him, his eyes narrow and his tone disbelieving.

“That could be because I’ve never met any of your wand users before. Maybe they tried and got eaten by some demon roaming around town I don’t know. Growing up on the Hellmouth, you learn that anything is possible.” Xander shrugged again, still completely unconcerned.

“You grew up on a Hellmouth?” Luna perked up in her seat. Xander nodded.

She was completely oblivious to the looks that passed between her group of friends and the sneers she got from the other groups. A look that was something between curiosity, excitement and wonder crossed Luna’s elfin features, making Xander shift uncomfortably when she scooted closer to the edge of her seat.

“I’ve heard about Hellmouths, they’re supposed to be myths, full of GripSnappers and Horknifflers.” Luna was actually starting to bounce a little in her seat, a slight far-off quality to her gaze.

“Well, those aren’t so bad, it’s the Vampires and the demons that are the problems.” Xander snorted. “Other than the Blibbering Humdinger that bit my thumb trying to steal my pizza.” He added.

“You’ve seen a Blibbering Humdinger!” Luna practically squealed with excitement, her whole face lighting up with a sort of childish glee.

“Well yeah, hasn’t everyone?” Xander looked at the other teens for support only to see the complete disbelief written on the face of each and every one.

“You’ve seen a Blibbering Humdinger?” Ginny drawled out slowly, each syllable dripping with scepticism.

“I just said that I had.” Xander agreed, flummoxed. For so called magicals they had a skewed view of the world. What was it they taught at this school?

“You saw a real life, honest to Merlin Blibbering Humdinger?” Hermione asked weakly.

“I didn’t just see it! The little shit tried to steal my pizza and nearly took a chunk clean out of my thumb!” Xander defended himself, glaring at the disbelieving teens around him. “Jeeze, you guys call yourselves witches and wizards when you’ve never seen one. Next your gonna tell me you’ve never seen a Nargle.” He snorted, unable to help his eyes rolling heavenward.

“…I really don’t know what to say to that.” Millicent blinked, looking at her group for support.

 

Hermione’s mouth closed with a snap and she huffed as she turned back to the cauldron, tapping on the edge of it with the wand held in her hand. The cauldron floated up and out of the fire place, floating smoothly through the air to set down like a feather on the low table set in the space between the two main clusters, several stacks of wooden bowls sat on the table along with a cluster of wooden spoons.

“You have to tell me all about it.” Luna gave a single strong nod before turning to the food with the others.

The red head that had been introduced as Alex left her seat to begin ladling spoonfuls of porridge into the bowls with an annoyed air, handing them out to Xander and Lisa first much to the annoyance of several people.

“It’s not much but the common rooms generally have a small supply of porridge and juice just in case.” Millicent explained. “And since we haven’t been able to get very far, it’s better than nothing.”

“Is that why you two were out yesterday?” Xander asked, looking between Ginny and Vincent, getting subdued nods in return.

“We only managed to check a few of the classrooms and corridors before they noticed us.” Ginny explained, annoyed.

“I really thought the muffling spells would work.” Hermione frowned deeply.

“Well obviously they didn’t did they.” Draco cut in scathingly.

“Muffle spells?” Xander asked, carefully scooping up a spoonful of porridge as the rest was handed out.

He could hazard a guess at what that meant but he didn’t want to just assume, if there was one rule he had about magic that wasn’t simply not too, it was not to assume anything. Assumptions usually bit him in the ass.

“It’s a sneak spell, it muffles the sounds of a person, their footsteps and such, to make it harder to hear them.” Blaise explained blandly.

“What else have you tried?” Xander asked curiously.

“We’ve been able to set them on fire, we can knock them back and we’ve been able to distract them with something flashy but none of the usual curses, hexes or jinxes work. Harry almost got bitten trying to cast a jelly legs curse on one.” Hermione explained between slow bites of food.

“We had the same issue.” Blaise agreed.

Xander blinked, something niggling at his brain. He busied himself with his food a moment as he mulled it over. Something was glaring at him and he parsed it over. They had been able to set them on fire but not use something like a jelly legs.

“Did you set them on fire or use a spell that creates fire?” He asked hedgingly.

“There’s a difference?” Ron snorted, eyebrows shooting into his hair line.

“Ron!” Hermione and Ginny both snapped out automatically, only getting an expressive eye roll from the elder Weasley.

“Ignis charms create fire.” Luna shrugged easily, feet bouncing as she ate.

“What about when you knock them back, is it a spell focused specifically at them or is it more a spell that was pointed in their direction?” He asked, the words feeling slightly wrong in his mouth.

“That doesn’t make any sense” Draco sniffed.

“I don’t know magic so I don’t know how to ask.” Xander shot the blond a glare, unable to help himself. “Look, is it like a spell that can be used on its own or a spell that has to have a target?” He demanded.

“How do you mean a target?” Hermione asked slowly, lowering her half empty bowl to the table and leaning forwards.

“Like this jelly legs curse, I’m betting it will only work if your actually aiming at someone?” Xander asked, waving his spoon towards her for emphasis, miming waving a wand at her.

Hermione’s eyes went as wide as diner plates, mouth moving silently as she seemed to be working through something in her head. Xander was more than used to that sort of thing from Willow, so he sat back to finish his food while Hermione finished working it out. He didn’t so much as flinch when she erupted to her feet.

“Of corse!” Her hand slashed through the air. “Direct and indirect magic!” Her eyes were bright, a pleased grin lighting up her face.

“Oh…” Draco sounded stumped, his jaw slowly unhinging as he understood.

“I don’t understand.” Vincent admitted quietly, shooting Hermione’s group a glare that dared them to say anything before turning his attention to Draco.

“It would seem as if these things are immune to direct magic but are susceptible to indirect magic.” Draco explained.

“I thought all magic was direct magic.” Ron asked bluntly, confusion written across his face.

“Ron!” Hermione looked at her friend beseechingly, then huffed. “Direct magic requires the caster be intent on a specific target, in this instance a person or creature, were as indirect magic doesn’t.” She explained slowly.

“But wouldn’t the muffle spell be indirect magic?” Neville asked carefully, brows dipping.

“Just because you were muffled doesn’t mean these things couldn’t see or smell you.” Xander couldn’t help the snort at that.

“I think the muggle has a point.” Blaise blinked, stunned.

“But you think indirect magic might work?” Harry asked Hermione, ignoring the Slytherin a moment.

“We would have to test it but I think Xander is right. We have been able to use magic but the results were spotty and there are a few magical creatures who are more resistant to direct magic, Basalisks for one, so there is a president.” Hermione nodded emphatically.

“It’s not going to be easy to test Granger.” Draco drawled out snidely. “It’s not as if we can kindly ask one of these things to stand still while we cast magic at it, not to mention the chances of catching one on its own to test on in the first place it next to none.”

“I didn’t say it was going to be easy did I?” Hermione shot back almost snottily, tone prim and slightly too sharp.

Xander watched it all, eyes swinging back and forth like he was at a ping pong match and he had to wonder if this was what he and Cordelia sounded like. He really hoped not but he was pretty damn sure that hope was in vane. There was more than an underlying tension between the two groups, hell it was blatant and in your face and Xander had to bite his tongue to keep from making a remark he probably shouldn’t. It was hard, but as long as he held his tongue trapped between his teeth, he wasn’t at risk of getting zapped by their wands. At either side of him, Lisa and Alex shared a commiserating look as the two groups seemed to bristle at each other. It was like watching two hyena packs squaring up against each other over territory.

“Here we go again.” The two girls muttered.

“It isn’t going to be easy but we still need to try. Better we test it first than trying to use a spell later when we really need it and ending up dead or infected because it didn’t work.” Hermione continued, oblivious to the peanut gallery inadvertently formed by Xander, Lisa and Alex.

“And just who will be doing the testing? We’re not stupid you know, It’s a suicide job!” Blaise scowled.

“Oh please, like any of you would even step out of the common room without us.” Ron scoffed, face pinking up with anger and looking about one more comment from springing from his chair, one hand clenched on his knee, the other hovering over where he wand was likely holstered.

Xander really didn’t want to wade into the middle of what was obviously some sort of long standing beef between the magic school equivalent of Crips vs Bloods. If he’d been reading the two groups right, there was some long standing issues on both sides. It was clear to see that neither group trusted each other, likely they didn’t even like each other and there was antagonism coming from both sides. Even so, as much as Xander didn’t want to get in the middle, he wasn’t comfortable with not knowing what he was dealing with. He wasn’t a slayer, he wasn’t a witch or a watcher but he liked to know what was going to try and kill him and if there was some way of staying alive another day. It had kept him alive this long after all.

“Hang on a minute.” Xander reluctantly cut in. “So we know whatever this is its spread by bites, scratches and blood, right?” He asked, immediately he had all their attention and the hostility level in the room dropped.

“That’s right.” Neville agreed.

“And you’ve seen it happen?” He pressed, eyes flicking first to Hermione and then the others.

“We’ve already said we had.” Harry was frowning at him, not suspicious exactly, more expectant.

Xander couldn’t explain his thought process, all he knew was that something was still bothering him about this and the more he knew would mean the more they could plan.

“And your sure all of them are dead?” He asked.

“Well yes, it said so on the note.” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“No it didn’t.” Vincent immediately contradicted. “It said the gas killed the people in the cities and then they got back up. When Professor Flitwick bit Snape on the leg, he didn’t die, he was fine for a few minutes and then he was…” He trailed off, waving a hand.

Looks passed between the members of each group, frowns of confusion mixed with worry as they all tried to remember what exactly they’d heard and seen, and then if it didn’t match.

“So this Snape guy didn’t die but he still changed?” Xander asked, absently fiddling with the pommel of the sword in his grip.

“It happened to Hagrid too.” Harry nodded, looking thoughtful. “When he tried to help Cho. Rosemerta’s blood was all over him, in his mouth and eyes. It was like it burned him and it didn’t take long, maybe a minute before he was…he was like Rosmerta.” Harry explained, voice breaking slightly. Whoever this Hagrid had been, he was someone Harry cared a lot about.

“But Cho did die.” Hermione pointed out. “Her throat was all ripped out and she hit the floor, I didn’t see what happened while she was down but as we were running up the corridor, I saw her attack a first year.”

“When we were trying to get to the Slytherin dorm, someone managed to hit Snape with some kind of spell and he went down, a big hole in his chest.” Millicent looked thoughtful, though grief stricken. “When he got up he was a lot slower, less…Angry maybe.” She hummed thoughtfully.

Rising to his feet, porridge bowl empty and abandoned on the side table, Xander made his way to the window he’d been looking out of the night before. Outside there had to be as many as two hundred figures roaming the grounds and he squinted as he observed them. He thing was, he had seen a few different types of zombies since meeting Buffy and these things were so much different. He couldn’t see these ones in detail, not to mention he’d never seen those house elf things before, but how they moved was unlike anything he’d seen before.  
What he could see however, even at this distance, was how they clustered together. There was a group of about twenty that weren’t doing much but staring at smaller group of around five or six that were sprinting along the edge of the forest, as if they were hunting something, only to slow down, tired, when nothing appeared.  
Could it be that there were two different types of infected, the alive ones and the dead ones? If so what were the differences and how could those differences be turned into an advantage against them.

“Pardon me.”

Xander span at the strange voice, an adult voice, sword raised in defence and ready to hack into whatever it was. As his eyes hit the speaker, Xander froze in shock, blinking at the silver-grey spectre floating half way through the the entrance to the common room, the back of the portrait-door bisecting the being at its waist. While surprised at the intrusion, none of the witches and wizards around him appeared scared, in fact by the looks of things they all seemed to know this thing.

“Nick!” Ron got to his feet, face splitting in a large grin.

“Hello Mr. Weasley.” Nick greeted, apparently relieved as he floated further through the portrait.

Xander lowered his axe warily as the ghostly figure cleared the obstruction fully, watching as the man-ghost thing took a quick head count of who was in the common room before halting on Xander.

“Well I do say, you’re a strange one.” Nick hummed, looking Xander up and down before smiling. “I’m Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, but you can call me Nearly-Headless Nick.” Nick bobbed in the air once-

-Causing his head to swing away from his neck, exposing dripping musculature, blood vessels and the gaping sphincters of his throat that pulsed with a facsimile of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and reading so far. I’ve had a few questions asked over on TTH that I’m sure more people who have read this will be wondering about so I’m doing this for a bit of clarification. 
> 
> 1) Yes Hogwarts is an isolated school up in Scotland but Scotland is not America or Europe. Over twenty four hours would be more than long enough for someone carrying the infection to get from the nearest urban area to Hogwarts. As in chapter one, Rosemerta was among the infected that attacked Hogwarts, meaning the infected people came from Hogsmead. Weather this was an infected muggle was able to travel on foot to Hogsmead and infect the local inhabitants or, a witch or wizard was exposed shortly before or immediately before Floo and/or Apparition I’ll leave to your imagination. -Floo and Apparition within the boarders of the U.K. Is still possible, it’s Flooing/Apparating from the U.K. To another continent passed the quarantine ward that isn’t possible. 
> 
> 2) This infection, as I imagine this particular one, isn’t your standard zombie bite job. Think of it as if the rage virus in 28 Days met a zombie strain and had a rabid baby. As they have been working it out in this chapter, these aren’t your run of the mill zombies. These guys are infected, alive and dead. Further more, for those who missed it in both chapter one and chapter two. YOU CAN GET INFECTED BY EXPOSURE TO BLOOD. I’ve had a couple of reviews basically asking the same thing. In one instance, I was asked how house elves can get infected when they can pop away. The answer is this: if you get BLOOD in your EYES, MOUTH or AN OPEN WOUND, your fucked. I don’t mind questions, they can help but I’ve had three proof readers check that this was obvious and not inferred, it’s been clearly stated repeatedly. 
> 
> 3) No doubt I will get someone asking if I don’t fore mention. As to the food in the common room: It is illegal to withhold food and drink from minors. I work in a care home -and this is also true of boarding schools- in the U.K. It is illegal to withhold food and drink from young persons in your care. If they can not access the kitchen due to safety policies, restricted access during night time hours or they’re not allowed to roam the halls after curfew, food and drink must be provided in an accessible area. This means usually that there is a small break room close to dorms for access, in this case I would logically assume due to the restrictive movement of students passed curfew that there would be some kind of supply within the house common room. These supplies are usually something that promotes a healthy diet while discouraging midnight munching, for instance we would provide toast and fruit should one of our young people request or, in the case that this wasn’t acceptable, some form of cereal. It is logical to assume that since these guys are studying to be witches and wizards, they can be trusted to make a little porridge. It’s also a point to make, these supplies would not be limitless, due to health and safety, things have to be checked daily, so it’s safe to assume house elves would do this once a day, removing old food and replenishing the allotted stock, so without house elves to do this, their supplies would rapidly dwindle.  
> On a side bar, Hogwarts is so full of problems OFSTED would have shut it down so fast the founders would get whiplash. Half of the staff should be brought up on charges and that’s just to start. Dumbledore should, under no circumstances, have been allowed to get away with running Hogwarts like he did. Were he real, he would have been brought up on charges of criminal negligence, child endangerment and more. That doesn’t even take into account the lack of background checks. Allowing Snape to not only teach but be responsible for minors is criminal. If he somehow managed to get passed checks, he would have been fired on the spot for child abuse and the same goes for Umbridge. As much as I love Harry Potter, I spend half the time I’m watching/reading it wishing a muggle-born would tell their parents and get muggle OFSTED in because it’s obvious the Ministry of Magic’s equivalent is a piss poor, bodge job of an organisation and I refuse to believe wizards can get away with essentially absconding -and indoctrinating, muggle-born children like they do without some kind of system in place to protect them. The wizarding world seems like it couldn’t give to shits what happens to children that A) Aren’t their own child or B) Somehow in the public eye. Anyway…
> 
> I think that’s everything, so for now, I hope you’ve enjoyed the story so far. Please feel free to drop a review if you have a question or if you just want to review, and I hope this AN has helped.


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